Who am I?
Who am I?
What am I? 
What is my identity?
What is identity?
Is it the color of your skin?
Is it the color of your eyes?
Or what about your hair?
Is it your gender?
Or by the way you smile?
Is it what you wear?
Or the way you communicate?
Is it about how tall or short you are?
How about your religion? Or culture?
Identity.
Strange word really.
A one line…
Four syllable word…
That basically tells us what we are.
Identity.
Is identity quantitative?
How about qualitative?
Is it like a complicated math equation where you need to dig a little deeper to find the answer?
Or like a first grade reading book where you can clearly see the purpose of the story?
How do you see identity?
I see it as a chance.
A possibility.
A desire.
A necessity.
Identity.
It is a…
A language.
A million things wrapped into one word.
Identity.
People search for them.
Others are just born with one.
Some people do not care for one and are defined from the world around them.
Others create a masterpiece.
Identity.
When you hear that word… what do you imagine?
A driver’s license?
An ID card?
A school photo?
Or even a passport?
Identity.
It can not mean much.
Can it?
Can it be more than our imaginations?
Or can it be a simple eight letter word that is just written on a piece of paper?
Identity.
It is a word with over seven billion definitions.
A word that does not have a single meaning.
A word that consumes each individual differently.
A word. Just a word.
Identity.
Is it shaped by the environment around us?
Or by the people we encounter?
Is it formed in seconds?
Or does it take a lifetime to connect each aspect of your life into beautiful work of art?
Identity.
Does it mean mother?
Father?
Sister?
Or maybe brother?
Identity.
It is not a word really.
It is more of a lifestyle.
A fate.
A culture.
Identity.
As people read my poem,
Some people may agree.
Some may disagree.
Some may use this as the building blocks to interpret their own identity.
Identity.
Identity is a difficult concept to understand.
Does it represent our existence?
Or the things that can not be represented?
Is identity physical or emotional?
What about both?
Identity.
Identities can come from one’s career.
Or even one’s social media accounts.
For some it is formed by professors.
Others by their parents and even grandparents.
Identity.
What do think of when you hear that word?
What comes to your mind?
What do you picture?
Why are you, you?
Identity.
Is it shaped by your athleticism?
Is it shaped by your intelligence?
Can it be shaped by your creativity?
Or by your musicality?
Identity.
Truth is, I do not really know what identity is.
What is it?
It is that one thing in life that is different from one another.
The one thing that no matter what, no one can take away from you.
Identity.
Identities are like snowflakes.
No one will ever be the same as the last.
Each one has the one special feature that separates themselves from the rest.
Each one was created to sparkle beautifully in the light.
Identity.
Identities are like a key.
The one thing that keeps people from seeing the real you.
Or the one thing that opens the passage to a whole new world.
Something that needs to be protected.
The thing that can slip through your fingers if you do not hold on tight. 
Identity.
So, the next time you want to be like the norm, stop and think.
Understand that the world does not have a norm.
Identities in this world are not meant to create a norm.
So appreciate the one you have.
It is one of the millions of puzzle pieces in the home we call earth.
Without it, the world would be missing out on one more beautiful human being.
Identity.
An eight letter, four syllable word that means the world. 
Identity.
What’s yours?